


Comeback

by melitta4ever



Series: Threats [2]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-06-24 01:40:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15619674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melitta4ever/pseuds/melitta4ever
Summary: "Thing about America: this country loves a comeback."This is the aftermath of the previous story.





	1. Garbage

**Author's Note:**

> The story starts a few months after the previous one. 
> 
> Special thanks to my wonderful betas Lyssa13 and tobeconspicous.

September heat was cruel in New York. The air, heavy with what felt like a thousand percent humidity, kept pressing on one's body from each and every direction, weighing them down and suffocating them at the same time. It felt even worse in alleyways between the high rises, as if after sopping up the dirt of the city and its dwellers, the imprisoned air couldn't escape to the sky and instead let itself go heavy on the ground, sulking down with disappointment. Especially around the garbage area Samuel felt like he was paddling through some toxic, sticky mud. Together with the nauseating smell rising from the garbage thanks to the heat, cleaning the alley had become a fucking torture session.

It seemed as if the garbage truck hadn't collected anything at all, but had spread the shit around then driven over them a few times and then left. The ground was filled with mashed fruits, fast-food leftovers; and unidentifiable sticky mush that looked like it was barfed up by a slime monster. Their combined odor left a greasy residue in the back of his throat that Samuel couldn't stop tasting; acidic, sulphurous and rotten. And, there were newspapers... Pages and pages of newspapers... some sticking to the ground, some to the trash, some -defying the totally still air and gravity- managing to fly around.

One of those flying pages stuck to Samuel's leg, provoking him to do something crazy like punching his leg with the paper picker. The picture on it was more provocative than his annoyance though, forcing Samuel to straighten the page out to read the story:

 

**“**Rafael Barba named Chief of the Trial Division** DA Jack McCoy appointed Rafael Barba to the long vacant Executive ADA position. Mr Barba was a victim of a gruesome attack a few months back by the ex-felons he had previously convicted. Prominently, a former NYPD officer Samuel West and Alex Muñoz. Muñoz was a front runner of New York City mayor race until charged with solicitation of a minor…”**

 

Fucking Barba! Samuel’s heart started beating at his temples. The bastard looked real fucking good in the picture too; dressed prettily and smiling to the cameras. Like a cat, not only with nine lives, he apparently also managed to land on his fucking feet. Samuel picked the paper up even closer to examine the grainy picture. To find something, anything which would show him that this was a front Barba was putting for the crowds, that he was miserable inside, crying himself to sleep every night… He couldn't find it. Not even a fucking trace from his fucking surgeries and Samuel knew the guy had been through plenty of those. It was a fucking miracle that Barba was actually walking after everything, let alone smiling devilishly to the reporters, like he was the second coming... Wearing suits that probably cost thousands of dollars while Samuel was cleaning the back alleys of supermarkets to earn a few bucks to fill his belly… He tore the paper to pieces, pushing his fingers through Barba's fucking smile.

It was partly Muñoz's fault. The guy had folded like a cheap Ikea chair as soon as he had gotten caught. He pleaded guilty behind closed doors and there was no news of what had really happened in that fucking apartment. Only his court ordered public apology made it to the news, for wrongfully attacking Barba’s name through all means of media when he had been accused of solicitation. Samuel was looking forward to the juicy details of Muñoz trial. The newspapers would have loved it. Two childhood friends turning fucking bloody enemies… intrigue, betrayal, sex... Everything a “breaking news” story needed. But Muñoz hadn't gone for it. Not even his allucation had been public. Instead,  _ Muñoz the Judas _ and his association with BX9 had become all the rage on the local channels.

Maybe Samuel should do what Muñoz wasn't man enough to do. Wouldn't it be poetic justice if he forced Barba through a trial. Let him taste his own bitter medicine, making him suffer through the exhibition of his dirty laundry in each and every media outlet. Now that he had apparently become a Chief Kiss-ass, the press would even be more ecstatic to learn everything.

Also, Samuel had enough of cleaning this city's shit! 


	2. New Office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my betas Lyssa13 and tobeconspicuous.

All the rooms in Hogan Place must have the same smell, Rafael mused. A dusty, paper and wood smell -like ancient libraries with moth eaten books- mixed with cheap carpet cleaner and dark roasted coffee. This room was no exception. It was bigger, much bigger than his old office; or that could be the effect of the ample sunlight brightening the room. The long wall was completely open to the bright fall sky with large windows facing the street, instead of the alleyway like he was used to. Rafael stood in front of the middle window and watched; not the anonymous crowds running in and out of the building all the way down, or the never-ending city traffic, but the sky. Clear blue, without a single cloud in sight. 

Feeling the sun on his skin, even through the insulated windows, really helped with the ever-present trapped feeling that was starting to overwhelm him after spending a few hours indoors. He had resisted the urge to turn on every single light in the room like a small child who was scared of  shadows. However, he had to open the shades completely when the shadows had started to move; flickering in and out of the realm of reality. He wished he could open the windows too. As if a faint breeze might sweep away whatever was fluttering elusively just around the corner, always there, always-- 

What? Barely four hours into the work and he already had to do the mindfulness exercises. He had sneered at the suggestion at first. Meditation had been catalogued next to the shamans in his mind, barely above marijuana. His therapist was immune to his sass though and was almost as scary as Rita, so Rafael had relented only to realize that it was actually working.

He wasn't even supposed to start working until next week, but had decided to stop by just to check in, bored out of his mind at home. Luckily too, as Carmen had politely pointed out the paperwork waiting for him.

“How am I behind on paperwork before I even started working?” He had asked taking in the twin towers of files on his desk. “Are you sure this is even legal?”

Carmen hadn't deemed it necessary to answer; instead greeted him with a sincere smile and concise “Welcome back, Mr Barba.”

  
  
  


“You look good.” McCoy's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “New suit?”

“I can afford a few now.” He smiled, showing his boss a seat.

“I'm sure you have more than I do, Rafael. Doubt anyone needs that many suits.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree.” He gestured to the coffee pot and McCoy simply nodded his agreement. “Is there a specific reason you're here, or just checking if I'm done with my homework?” He gestured at the half done paper tower on the desk.

“To discuss your case.” McCoy explained after taking a big sip, a giddy glint in his eyes revealing how much he enjoyed the taste. Rafael knew his roasts, unlike most of the pretentious heathens in this building who thought Starbucks was what coffee was supposed to be. “I can be the one representing the people.”

“Oh!” That was unexpected, the DA didn't prosecute unless the case was deemed too important for his assistants. “I don't know what to say. That's… thank you.”

“You're an executive ADA now. It wouldn't be unheard of.” He placed the coffee mug on the table. “I'm sensing reservations... For your sake, I hope not due to your trust in your boss's ability.” He added with a warm smile.

“Not at all. If nothing else, I know how much the jury loves you, Jack.” McCoy was magnetic in courtroom if not hypnotic. He could glamour any jury, easily. “But it would inflate West’s arrogance, facing  **the** District Attorney and I don't… that bastard doesn't get to face the DA.” He could barely control his voice, on the edge of quivering with disgust.

McCoy nodded, his lips pursed. “Who do you want, then?”

“Whoever is taking the SVU cases these days. Mine shouldn't be treated differently.” He shrugged; it was a special victims’ case even though referring himself as one had taken a long time to admit.

“Peter Stone. He's new to SVU.”

“Ben Stone’s son?” Stone wasn't a name he had heard in a while. Upon a nod from McCoy, he continued, “Is he good enough to make Daddy the Legend proud.”

“Better.” Those surprisingly black eyebrows rose with unexpected playfulness. ”I wouldn't hire him otherwise.” He stopped for another sip, then continued, “But he's a stranger, to you and to the case.”

“I prefer a stranger.” Rafael honestly couldn't imagine going through the details of that night with anyone he knew personally.

“I see.” McCoy looked up, the smile in his eyes was so deep that they managed to impose some lightness into Rafael's heart. “This talk would go smoother with some Scotch, but I have my reservations about offering some to a guy who was hospitalized until very recently.”

“Rightly so.” Rafael sighed. No Scotch for him until he was free of pneumonia risk and until his joints stopped complaining like an old sailor as soon as it rained in Maine. There was also the risk of mixing alcohol with antidepressants; he might end up using those for quite a while. He sometimes thought his doctors didn't want to say  _ never _ , using euphemisms of  _ forever _ instead. “Don't even own a bottle for a congratulatory sip anymore.”

“You know why West wants his time in court?” McCoy asked directly and if it wasn't for one hand aggressively circling the rim of his mug, Rafael would have thought he was completely at ease with the question.

“Yeah. He wants to further humiliate me.” What he had done wasn't enough; West wanted to show off too. The psycho was probably proud of himself. Maybe they were lucky he had refused legal representation. If Rafael had been his lawyer, he'd have pushed for not guilty by reason of insanity.

McCoy nodded. He has seen enough sickos in his career that he must have guessed it too. “It's not gonna be easy.” He said gently. “You know how well the rape shield works for public figures.”

“At least no one will joke about how I got where I am with the help of my ass anymore.” Gossip-mongers were still squeezing Rafael's outing by NYPD. “Because it won't be a joke, huh?”

“Are they really?” McCoy looked baffled. “Jesus Christ!” He then smiled; his signature, teasing half smile. “I thought my imprudent reputation with ladies would spare me.”

That made Rafael laugh. His reputation had probably fanned that piece of gossip. Rafael had heard enough jokes comparing McCoy's tally with Clinton's,  **Bill** Clinton's.

“Jokes aside, Rafael. You know the only reason I didn't promote you before was because both Latino community and NYPD would have had a fit.”

McCoy had had the decency to tell him as such a year ago. That he was proud of Rafael as an attorney and as a human being for tackling such toxic cases. However, the decision was simply political. Now, though, Rafael Barba was a hero in Cuban and Latino community for stopping _The_ _Traitor_ Muñoz who was secretly working together with BX9. And wasn't it something to say about the ethics of city politics that exchanging nude pictures with a high school student was not deemed bad enough; but as soon as your name was mentioned next to a street gang you were a done deal. As for NYPD, no one could risk mentioning his name nowadays in fear of reminding people about their rotten-to-the-core apples.

“This talk sure would do with some Scotch.” He responded instead. It wasn't like McCoy did not know that all. 

“Go home, Rafael.” He said, slowly rising up from his chair, “The paperwork is a never ending story in this building. There will always be more come morning.”

 

TBC....


	3. Being There

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> with thanks to my wonderful betas Lyssa13 and tobeconspicous.

“Is that a new suit?” Rafael looked gorgeous in the charcoal, double breasted beauty which gently wrapped his body with its fitted silhouette. “Wow!”

“Close your mouth, Sonny. Before swallowing a bug.” Rafael smirked, sides of his eyes crinkling; one slightly less because of a small, faint scar that was only visible when light hit it directly from above. A barely there reminder of what Rafael had been through, what he had survived. “With the salary bump, I can afford a few new suits, don't you think?”

“You don't have to spend it all, you know.” answered Sonny, rolling his eyes.

“But how can I afford to be your sugar daddy, then?” Rafael teased, one eyebrow playfully lifted.

Sonny groaned. “I thought we agreed to not mention those nasty rumors anymore.” The rumors had started popping up when Sonny wouldn't leave Rafael's side in hospital, and Rafael loved using them as the butt end of his jokes despite Sonny's fervent objections.

“Relax.” He said, finally turning back from the mirror and facing Sonny. “It's just another trial.”

“No. No, it's not.” Sonny said deflated. He was supposed to be strong, to be Rafael's rock during this ordeal. However, Sonny had never considered how hard it would be to _just be there_ for him. Rafael wasn't one to show weakness, not even to his closest friends, it seemed. Sonny remembered the night last week when he had arrived at Rafael's apartment late and found Rita Calhoun in his bed.

“Shhh.” Rafael had put a finger on his own lips, as if Sonny would start yelling. Calhoun was sleeping, tight as a ball, leaning back into Rafael. He was the big spoon, one arm under her neck, one over her waist, holding her gently, as if she was a frail nymph that might fly away in the faintest breeze.

Sonny knew they were good friends, a decades long friendship even if they were usually fighting on the opposite sides. He also knew that Calhoun had been with Rafael on that cursed night. They had shared an inexpressible experience and survived a horrendous assault together. Still, seeing Calhoun -an iron lady if there ever was- so fragile came as a complete shock. And witnessing how Rafael was her pillar, that she wasn't pretending to be strong with him, hit Sonny… hard.

Later, Rafael thought Sonny was being jealous of Calhoun. He unceremoniously commented, while buttering his toast, that there wasn't anything sexual between them; it was just a friend being there for another after Calhoun's trial prep. Sonny knew that already. He just had hard time explaining how seeing them like that made Sonny feel inadequate in Rafael’s healing process. He wanted to _be there_ for Rafael, to be his big spoon. At least some of the times. He wanted Rafael to lean on him; to rest his heaviness on Sonny, his problems, his nightmares... But he couldn't find the words, not when delving into such heavy conversations seemed to be a taboo with Rafael. Instead, he nodded his understanding and returned back to his now tasteless omelette.

And it wasn't like he wasn't jealous. He was… of Eddie Garcia.

Eddie was the only one Rafael Barba turned to when he needed something, anything. Rafael hadn't even informed Sonny when he was leaving the hospital. Sonny had been in Rafael’s room every single day, or night. Even the days he didn’t have time to make it to his own home, Sonny made sure to stop by the hospital for some time, be that thirty minutes or ten. He sat down next to Rafael’s bed and talked about Olivia, Amanda and Fin, about the Carisi clan or his crazy neighbors… anything that might make Rafael smile. He didn’t mind that Rafael never smiled or seldom answered or sometimes didn’t even acknowledge his presence. Sonny was just happy to see him breathing on his own, that he could reassure himself of the fact that Rafael had made it alive, in one piece.Then one day, he had received a single text message from the guy, “ _Back at my apartment. Extra key with doorman.”_

Later, he found out that it was Eddie who helped Rafael; carrying half his weight and his bags out of the hospital. It was Eddie who brought Rafael to his apartment, put him into his bed, tucking him in; maybe even helped him with restroom too... Sonny had always offered to help, Barba had always refused. Sonny heeded the rejection because he knew the rules: **Let** **the survivor be in control. Be respectful of their wishes.** Barba wished to be treated as if nothing had happened... except with Eddie Garcia. He would probably let the guy spoon feed him.

“He feels responsible, Sonny.” He had said one day, seemingly out of blue during lunch. Sonny understood who they were talking about because he couldn't get Eddie out of his mind and because Barba was perceptive like that. “He thinks he should have seen what Alex was capable of, that he would strike for revenge. But more importantly, he thinks if he had never got into a problem working with Alex during his campaign, none of it would’ve happened.”

“That's not--” Sonny started, but Rafael stopped him with a flick of hand.

“It doesn't matter whether or not he's actually responsible. He **feels** that way. And taking care of me… let's say it helps with the guilt.”

“I'm sorry…” Sonny felt like shit. Here was Rafael, finally out of hospital after many, torturous weeks and Sonny was crowding him with his insecurity already.

“And he's not gay.” Rafael smiled, “Not even curious.”

Like that was why Sonny was jealous. Honestly, he would be less upset if Rafael was fucking the guy. He might even have rationalized it. Theirs was not even a real relationship. Yet. They hadn't given it a name; had not even discussed being exclusive. And after the trauma Rafael had suffered, it wouldn't really be unheard of if he started being promiscuous. But he wasn't. He wasn't interested in sex even with-- Of course, Sonny wasn't expecting him to jump into bed right away. He wasn't even sure if Rafael was healthy enough to do so. Because that's also something Rafael didn't talk about.

Sometimes Sonny suspected that Rafael was just letting him come and go, a lunch here, a dinner there, spending a night once in a while under the same roof... And it was only Sonny's imagination that they were _together,_ stuck in a limbo that neither was willing to name. Rafael was never an easy guy to read to begin with, but after the... incident, there were times that Sonny believed he was just pretending to be human.

He had once collected enough courage to ask Rafael to share, to talk something other than the news. Rafael apathetically explained that he was already talking to a therapist and in a group, and he just didn't want his existence being reduced to a single night **.** They had ended up not talking about even the news for a while; Rafael keeping a silent vigil over his food with the echoes of silverware clinking on porcelain plates being the only sounds answering Sonny’s desperate chatter. So, Sonny had reluctantly stepped back.

On the other hand, there were days that he was needling Sonny like nobody's business, sass oozing out from his every fiber like syrup. Those days Sonny could swear he could see something in his beautiful green eyes. Something precious. Something flattering enough to make him forget all the insecurities, all the doubts. Something that made him clutch to the notion that this too would pass.

 

Rafael turned back to the mirror, to work on that stubborn strand of hair that kept raising up against the miracles of modern cosmetics applied to it.

“Leave it.” Sonny blurted out. He patted the defiant hair which coiled tighter under his hand.  “I love it like that.”

Rafael gave one more look at the mirror, then shrugged, “Okay. Let's go.”

TBC...


	4. Court

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for some explicit language in reference to a past rape case.
> 
> Probably a bigger warning: not betaed.

The courtroom, which was Rafael's dominion where he felt powerful and invincible, looked surprisingly different from the witness stand. Even though he knew by heart the exact number of steps from the prosecutor desk to the witness stand and to the jury box, from where he sat; it seemed as if the room had shrunken. And apparently, whatever space had left was filled with audience whom Rafael had never paid too much attention before, unless to use their presence in a tactic for jury's sake.

Captain Logan nodded his greetings from where he sat; his face was impenetrable and hard. Rafael would call it solemn if he didn't know that it was his resting face. Detective DeSilva was sitting next to the Captain, but unlike him, DeSilva avoided Rafael's eyes. Rafael couldn't be sure if it was because he was actually ashamed of their ineptitude in catching West in a timely manner, or if he was still smarting from the dressing down he'd endured from Rafael after-- 

He breathed out of his nose while keeping his tongue pressed on top of his mouth. Slow and steady breaths to dispel the memory of the panic that had flooded him in his favorite bakery when he had lowered his New York Times and found West grinning right across him. After Rafael had been  **repeatedly** assured by NYPD that West must have left the state if not the country. 

Rafael didn't want to believe in conspiracy theories, but... He was sure the number of people in NYPD, and DOC, who hated his guts was not a small number. Even now. Maybe especially now, after his promotion.

He could see Olivia, Amanda and Fin sitting together right behind the Captain, like the representatives of the good guys in the force. Olivia was trying to convey some kind of message with her eyes; unfortunately it lost its meaning through the busy hum of the courtroom and his own nervousness. 

Eddie was on the other side of the gallery, sitting straight and tall, head up high, lips puckered as if whistling to a silent tune replaying in his mind. Rafael had tried to ask him not to attend the trial, but Eddie had stopped him before he could do so.  _ “No te voy a dejar solo, hermano.  _ Please, don't ask me that _.” _

Luckily, his mother had accepted his request and didn't show up; Rafael wasn't sure how he would react seeing her there, sitting as the personification of misery. She was already crying when he told her about it and that itself was proof enough that she shouldn't be in there, distracting Rafael when testifying. Sonny couldn't attend because he was also a witness, just as Rita. 

For now, it was easy to put on the apathetic mask, something he had had to learn long ago to be successful in courtroom. If you could control  when to let your emotions bleed into your arguments, you could control the jury. However, he wasn't sure how long he could actually preserve his cool on this side of the stand. Especially when West would eventually start to get into his face. He remembered Olivia's case with that bastard Lewis with a shudder. His respect for her courage had increased tenfold in the last months. 

His eyes finally landed on People's desk; Peter Stone looked like the very picture of a dashing young lawyer. Next to West, he could as well be the Paris of Troy facing a Cyclops; jury would definitely think so. Stone was tall and handsome but he had that small smile that softened his masculine lines, make him more approachable, more humble. It was a mask, Rafael recognized. Stone must have known how intimidating a guy of his size and height could be. He sure hadn't looked this friendly during the prep for the cross examination. If Rafael hadn't put enough witnesses through the same hell, he'd have hated the guy's guts. He still wasn't sure if he didn't.

Stone rose up after prodding of the judge, buttoning his navy blue jacket with a soft, almost pitying smile on his face. 

“Mr Barba, can you please tell the court how did you meet with the defendant?”

First few questions were simple, to ease him into the process, to paint a picture of how horrible a human being Samuel West was. Barba explained the court case he had prosecuted, where West had been found guilty of multiple counts of rape. He went into the details of how West had used his law enforcement privileges to prey on vulnerable women and he even managed to mention how West had tried to kill a fellow officer to avoid getting caught. That chilling piece of information couldn't have been introduced at the previous trial. It seemed the current judge was more lenient. Also, West, as his own without a lawyer, couldn't object successfully for shit.

  
  


“And Officer West blamed you for his incarceration?”

“Excuse me, Your Honor. Isn't this speculation?” West interrupted.

“Rephrase, Your Honor. Did you hear him blaming you for his incarceration?” Stone asked, smiling. That was his game and West was just playing into his hand.

“Yes, he confronted me at the courtroom, quite loudly. It must be in the court records.. that he'll make me pay for what  **I** put him through.”

Peter showed the court records of West's venomous words as People's exhibit.

Then the hard part started.

“Can you tell us the involvement of Samuel West on the night you were assaulted?”

Stone’s plan, by Rafael's goading, was to not go over the details of the assault in general; but instead only to focus on West's involvement with the revenge gang. Muñoz case had already established that the group was there to torture and kill the ADA that had prosecuted them and West had already accepted that. West's claim was that he had been misinformed by Muñoz, that Muñoz used him to access information from West's friends from the force. He claimed that he had been in the apartment just to scare Rafael; but after realizing what the real plan was, he had felt obligated to stay to protect the civilians from the worst. Complete bullshit.

“He was the one with a gun who kept Ms Calhoun hostage. I saw him smacking her with the pistol, hard enough to strike her head to the wall with a loud crack. She passed out soon after. It was his strike that caused her severe, grade 3, concussion.”

The wording he used had been chosen specifically to describe the viciousness of the act and West didn't even object the clear lack of medical knowledge Rafael had, or the speculation aspect of his testimony, or that West had already pleaded guilty for the attack to Rita, separating the two cases.

“Did you get the impression that the defendant in any way was an unwilling participant?” Peter asked, pointing West.

“No. He forced himself in my apartment together with the others. None of them were holding any gun, except him. And no one ordered him to do anything. He was in on the plan from the get go.”

So on and on. Stone was good. He managed to hypnotize the jury. Rafael couldn't see how West could turn the tide. It was slum dunk even with a miracle worker sat down on the defense desk, next to West. But as he had stupidly decided to represent himself, West had no chance proving his ridiculous claims. No chance.

When West took over, Rafael had to use some more of the breathing techniques to keep himself calm and collected. He intellectually knew that he was in a courtroom, with officers, cops, friends… however that knowledge didn't find its way into his lizard brain it seemed. Even Eddie's presence which had always been equivalent to protection in Rafael's subconscious mind did nothing to make him feel safe. Each time West got closer to the witness stand, Rafael felt his heart beating uncomfortably faster. The bastard had to be an expert in intimidation game; he kept waltzing, getting an inch closer to Rafael each time he passed the witness stand, decreasing the distance between them while increasing Rafael's anxiety, gradually but firmly. West's eyes, looking directly into Rafael's with that cruel glint, kept forcing him into evading them and it was getting harder and harder to resist the pressure.

Then, West started asking questions about that night.

“Can you tell the court who-- on the night of the attack obviously… who wanted to rape your mouth? I think the term they used was  _ skull-fuck. _ ”

Stone kept objecting almost non-stop, Rafael couldn't keep track of them… questions being speculative or argumentative or leading or irrelevant… Still, it felt like West was bombarding him with questions that were worded carefully and deliberately in the crudest and foulest way to bring back the worst of the memories; disguised as quotations from the real attackers: “... _ deep-throated...”, “...slobbering over...”, “...dry-shoved...”, “...gang-banged...”, “...stuffed full…” _

West didn't seem to care that none of his questions were being answered; the flow of ‘ _ sustained’ _ s washed over the bastard like oil on water. He kept marching on with obvious satisfaction.

“I want to use some evidence to back up my innocence.” West said, after what felt like an eternity of verbal onslaught.

“We have no knowledge of such evidence, Your Honor.” Stone responded readily, full of self confidence that was light years away from Rafael's grasp at the moment. “We need to--”

“It had been sitting in the county evidence locker, Your Honor.” interrupted West; grinning wide and arrogant. “With chain of custody intact.”

The color drained from Stone's face and he rushed to the bench. If Rafael wasn't reeling from the vulgar reminders of his attack, he'd have pushed himself to remember what kind of evidence would cause such reaction in Stone.

The heated discussion happened close enough, but the annoying buzzing in Rafael's ears prevented him to understand the conversation fully. Only bits and pieces, something about West's lack of technical experience, about the restrictions he faced because he was incarcerated and that he hadn't been sure that he could obtain the evidence before today.

When they returned back to their desks, Rafael didn't even know what the so called evidence was or the judge's decision. However, from the way Peter's lips turned to a tight line that bleached their color, Rafael got that things weren't good. 

Then, the big screen TV in the courtroom lighted up, and Rafael saw himself. 

The courtroom was thrown into a loud murmur that forced the judge to call for order several times. But Rafael barely heard them because West was playing the pictures forward and back, pretending to be learning how to use a simple remote control from the court officer. Pictures of Rafael with those bastards, being raped, crying, begging…

His stomach rebelled violently.

“I need a recess, Your Honor.” He managed to ask and started walking away before Judge Lee finished his orders about recess until tomorrow morning. He needed to find a restroom before throwing up in front of everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that's Ferris's phone.
> 
> This court scene is inspired mostly by Olivia’s case against that psycho-monster Lewis as well as the court scene from the episode Legitimate Rape. In both cases, it was appalling how the perps were allowed to intimidate, even attack, the victims. I do hope in real life our courts do not allow such atrocities and these all are complete fiction.


	5. Truth Heals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for some explicit language in reference to a past rape case.
> 
> Again, not betaed.

One of the lightbulbs in the restroom was not working properly, randomly dimming down and up, causing Rafael's head swim in waves of dizziness. But he couldn't dare close his eyes. Even with the strong disinfectant odor, all he could smell and taste was the muskiness of Ferris, as if the bastard had just taken his dick out of his mouth and rubbing his jizz in his nostrils. Rafael didn't want to see him too on top of everything; a certainty, had he closed his eyes now.

“Rafael.” Sonny’s voice was soft, coming through the flimsy door, “I just saw you got out of the courtroom.” 

Rafael cleaned his mouth with toilet paper and squared his shoulders. He didn't want to get out of the stall, didn't want to face Sonny, or anybody really. However, he could imagine Sonny's patience was running thin by now.

“Gimme a sec.” He needed more than that, but it didn't seem like he could get what he needed. Maybe not ever.

He got out of the small stall and beelined to the sink, letting cold water calm his frayed nerves.

“I need some time, Sonny. I'll be at Forlini.” Rafael explained while trying to keep his eyes away from Sonny's; afraid that if he saw the raw pain in them, Sonny wouldn't leave him alone. Rafael needed more time to absorb what had actually happened before starting to contemplate what would happen next, and that kind of time he couldn't get in a toilet stall. 

“You can't drink--”

“Tell me one more time what I can or can't do, Detective.” His voice boomed in the empty restroom, way louder than he had intended. He knew he was being harsh. And Sonny definitely didn't deserve that. After a long exhale he tried to soften his demeanor, “Forlini is somewhere I go after a hard case. This was one. That's all.”

Then he left, leaving Sonny all doe eyed in the courthouse.

  
  


 

 

He was staring at his drink, a virgin mojito because whatever Sonny thought of him, Rafael was also stubborn. No way he was going to let West win a score by scumming into alcohol poisoning mid-trial. 

McCoy's voice on the TV distracted him from the green hued drink, talking to the reporters on the steps of the courthouse.

“ _ Of course my office takes a special interest in this case. One of the County's attorneys had been attacked solely because of his dedication to law and justice. It's not just an attack to my office, it's an attack to law and order, it's an attack to what makes our great--” _

“Could you please turn it down, Leo?” Olivia sat on the stool next to him. 

“Did Carisi send you?” Rafael asked, without lifting his gaze from his drink. 

“No.” Her smile was audible, “But that explains why he is hiding near the entrance.”

Huh! Rafael hadn't caught him, not even the eyes on the back his neck feeling. He tried looking back, to catch Sonny on the act but couldn't see the tall blond anywhere. “Are you sure he's here?”

“He's a detective, Barba. He does this kind of thing for a living.”

That made him smile. He gave his drink a try. Angostura bitters added some kick, but it was still a far cry from the burning of a nice Scotch he yearned.

“You know who I'm thinking about?” He asked, then replied without waiting an answer, “Jocelyn Paley.” Olivia raised her eyebrows in question, so Rafael continued. “Remember she told me she hated me after her time on the stand.”

He gulped another sip, more of a habit of hand than anything else. “When West showed those pictures… I know there was nothing Stone could do, but I wanted him to stop it from happening… It didn't make any difference that I knew he couldn't… I felt like he should have done more to protected me.” He laughed, something hurting deep inside him, making his voice bitter even to his own ears. “How many of my own witnesses felt that way I wonder. That I was just another asshole trying to score a point and not caring about them at all.”

“You've never been like that.” Olivia answered, sincerely.

“Wasn't I?” He finished the drink, and gestured for another one; the act itself was surprisingly satisfying. “You know what I wanted? I wanted Stone to drop the fucking case. Right there. Let the bastard go.” Shame! “Just to spare me from the humiliation… all the while knowing that, in his shoes, I wouldn’t hesitate to use those pictures as prosecution evidence.” 

How many victims he forced to go through that? And unlike Rafael, they were jumping into an unknown when they gave Rafael their complete trust.

He looked at Olivia, but all he could see was compassion in her beautiful eyes. He couldn't get the Lewis case out of his mind either. Rafael had been totally useless that day while the bastard had kept badgering Olivia on the stand. “How hypocrite of me, huh?” 

“The word I choose would be **human**.” She said.  “I know you want to believe you're something grandeur, Rafael, but you're human at the end.” Her hand found his on the bar; soft hands, a mother's hands.  

His mother! Thank God she stayed at home and didn't witnessed the disaster.

“I don't know if I…” Could he do this? Get out there again, those pictures up for all to see. His weakness, his shame...

“Let me show you something.” Olivia took her phone out then searched for a while. 

When she held the phone, Rafael barely recognized the young woman. “Clare…” he couldn't remember the last name.

“Clare Wilson.” Olivia completed for him. “She's at the Nursing Program at Manhattan Community College.” She went on, finger scrolling through pictures, some Rafael recognized instantly, some he just couldn't even guess if Olivia didn't remind him their names. They had changed so much since their time in his witness stand; sitting small and scared, seeing potential pain everywhere they had looked. They seemed happy in the pictures, content at least. Olivia told him about some of them, the life they had built after leaving Rafael and his courtroom behind.  

“They don't usually send thank you letters because they want to forget.” Olivia said while continuing the parade of happy faces. “But you helped them, Raf. You are the reason they got to do their stand, to look at their attacker's in the eye and to tell the world their truth. That was one of the biggest steps in their recovery.  **You** were part of that step.” She looked directly in his eyes. “And once you tell  **your** story, Raf, it can be empowering. The truth would help you heal too.”

She left not too long after that, but her seat didn't stay empty. Eddie sat down patting him on the shoulder and ordered whatever Rafael was having. 

“What kind of fancy shmancy drink is this, Rafi? He asked after his first sip, all but spitting it out. “How do you drink this?”

“It's virgin.”

“I wonder why?” Eddie rolled his eyes, then ordered a beer.

They sat down together, without talking. Just watching the TV screens and drinking. Eddie’s knee bumped his after ordering his second beer.

“Your boyfriend was upset.” He said, eyes on the today's game highlights.

“He called you?” Rafael asked, trying not to be fazed by the term  _ boyfriend. _ Also, he didn't know Sonny had Eddie's number.

“I called him.” Eddie confessed while playing with the condensation on his glass. “He’s good people.”

An overwhelming endorsement, coming from Eddie Garcia. Rafael glanced to the side, but there was no indication that Eddie wanted to talk more; no questions, no demands. They just sat down quietly, together. 

  
  
  


 

Looking at the pictures was slightly easier this time around; Rafael had time to mentally prepare himself. He could look at them while distancing himself from the memories. They were ugly pictures, and not only content wise. Light was hitting at the wrong angle creating sharp shadows, the focus was usually off, and the glare from wet skin was awful. He looked much heavier on the pictures, he mused. Even after the combined efforts of both his mother and Sonny trying to constantly feed him, the Rafael in the pictures had at least 20 pounds on him. Yet another reason to keep his mother away from the pictures.

West kept asking about them. Was West part of the attack in that picture where Rafael had been gagged by Ferris? What about where he had been double penetrated, was West a participant on that action? So on and on. And Rafael managed to answer them, truthfully and calmly. As Peter, unnecessarily, had explained this morning, West was sabotaging his own case by showing the photo evidence of the attack. Especially, seeing how he was treating Rafael, the jury was going to ask for his head. But West didn't care about the case, that much Rafael understood now. Not even the slightest. All the guy had wanted to do was to publicly humiliate Rafael. And it clearly drove him crazy that Rafael could keep his head at the moment.

“You don't really have any evidence that shows I was there to hurt you, isn't that right Counselor?” He asked at the end. “That you can't say beyond reasonable doubt that I wasn't an unwilling participant, trying to keep the damages to minimum?” 

He was so sure of himself, so full of himself that Rafael almost believed that the bastard didn't remember it. It wouldn't be the first time Rafael met a perp who ended up believing the lies he had made up. 

“Actually, I can.” Rafael answered, and West's sharp turn from his way toward the defense desk told him it was unexpected. “I do remember what you did to me, Mr West.” 

Rafael looked right at his beady, cruel eyes that opened wide with surprise. It wasn't a case of repressed memory, the bastard hadn't expected Rafael to willingly talk about it on the stand, in front of an audience. 

“After your buddies were  done with me,  **you** beat me with a wooden chair leg within an inch of my life.  **You** broke my eye socket, gave me a concussion that I couldn't wake up for two weeks.  **You** broke my ribs that punctured my lungs, caused me to slowly drown in my own blood while  **you** kept torturing me.” 

West tried to object.

“You have asked the question, Mr West. Not liking your answer isn't a cause for an objection.” was Judge Lee’s curt answer. “Please continue, Mr Barba.”

Rafael looked at the miserable man across him. “Then  **you** raped me with that wooden piece so hard that it torn my colon, barely missing my abdominal aorta.” 

Stone had already explained Rafael's wide range of injuries from that night to the jury during the opening statement. So, it wasn't the first time the secrets of that night was exposed to public. It wasn't the first time Rafael talked about it either. By his therapist’s constant urging, he had talked to her as well as in the group therapy many times. He had used the word  _ rape _ too when explaining what had happened to him. However, facing West, looking at him in the eye and blaming him… It was as if Rafael finally managed to internalize the notion which he had repeated to himself hundreds of times: It.Wasn't.His.Fault. The guilty party was standing right in front of him. Rafael could, and did empty the guilt on the deserving person. 

Something lifted off from his chest, not an astounding feeling like a soaring rocket, but like… the floating of his first kite. Measured carefully and built from the trash bags he had gathered from the  _ bodega… _ black and white, in contrast to colorful kites the other kids were enjoying. Despite all, the first time he had let it go, it went higher and higher, passing all the others in the blue sky. Eddie had been cheering right next to him and he had also been the only reason the other kids hadn't beaten him to get his prize possession.

His eyes found Eddie, sitting triumphant and looking proud of his friend just like that day. 

Then, Rafael turned to the jury. “So, yes, I can tell beyond any doubt that Mr West was there to torture and rape me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hard parts are finally over. Phew!


	6. Conquer the Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to lilahenatlantis for their help with Spanish.
> 
> Warnings for explicitly happy times and unbetaed writing.

The wait before being called as a witness was never an easy ordeal. Sonny almost always got the nerves, afraid of what kind of environment he would walk in, afraid that he might say or do something awkward which might annoy the jury, afraid that something unexpected might come up and render him speechless. However, his general anxiousness was nothing compared to the nerves that he was suffering right now.

It was Rafael who was being discussed on the other side of the massive doors; who was going through what could only be called as torture while Sonny was helplessly waiting outside. Also for this case, there was the very big chance of Sonny losing the control of his anger while facing West.

Yesterday, he had been waiting exactly like this when Rafael had popped out of the courtroom. Sonny knew something had gone wrong beyond their expectations when Rafael didn't even hear Sonny calling his name. And the way Rafael's eyes were wandering around, jittery and tearful when he left the courthouse consolidated his deduction.

“ _West used the pictures in Ferris's phone.”_ Peter had explained afterwards. _“They took pictures while torturing Barba, explicit pictures.”_ He had added, face scrunched up as if tasting something particularly nasty.

Today, Peter came out of the courtroom looking significantly better. Still, something must be off. Baileff should have called Sonny to the stand, Peter should still be in the room, waiting. He needn't ask though, Peter clarified the situation as soon as he got close enough to talk.

“It's over. Waiting for the jury.” He said smiling.

“How?” There were at least two more witnesses for the People. Also, what happened to the defense?

“Barba's testimony was so powerful, I decided to rest the case while it was still fresh.” Peter looked almost relaxed. “And West destroyed his own case, no need to drag Barba through more.”

“And the defense?” Sonny asked confused.

“As I've guessed, West didn't prepare anything.” His smile fell for a moment.”Other than the pictures.”

Sonny had more questions but he saw Rafael walking out then; in slow, sure steps, listening to something Olivia was saying next to him, one hand on Eddie's shoulder who was walking a step before them. He raised his head and when their eyes met, he smiled at Sonny. It was the kind of smile that he had used to give after a successful trial. The kind when he had performed some sort of miracle in the courtroom and was extremely proud of himself. It was the smile that had made Sonny fell for him; deep and with no reservations. Seeing it again - **finally** seeing it again- calmed something inside Sonny like a soothing balm on an open wound.

They couldn't sit down and ponder about the possible verdict though because the jury was back almost immediately. They must have closed their door, get a headcount and come out right away. Jury's repulsion of West was evident on their faces when “guilty of all charges” read aloud. It was over. Just like that.

Rafael stood motionless after the congratulatory handshakes and pats were over. There was a weary, almost unseeing dullness in his usually brilliant eyes. Sonny ignored the plans for the congratulatory group drink, and with a self-confidence burst that fueled by a sudden flood of tenderness, pulled Rafael's arm toward the back exit, “I'm making lasagna. You choose the wine.” The others, thankfully, let him.

  
  


“Can you stay the night?” Rafael asked in the middle of the dinner, voice deep with the promise of dirty things. The lasagna piece stuck at Sonny's throat, causing him to cough very unmannerly. The offer was clearly different than the previous nights that Sonny had stayed, the ones that fit more to a friend than a lover.

He gulped the water Rafael had handed him, and only after that could answer with a meek “Yes, I'd love to.”

Even if he was reading Rafael wrong. Even if tonight ended up just like the others with Sonny sleeping on the surprisingly comfortable sofa. There was no way he would say ” _No_ ” to that question.

  
  


“Let me be in control. Can you?” Rafael asked, standing too close to allow Sonny to think with his upstairs brain. His breath was licking Sonny's left ear, causing goosebumps on the entirety of his left side through a wave of arousal.

“Yes, yes please.” He answered, more like begged.

Sonny had been doing research on power play since his first time with Rafael. Okay, it had mostly been in form of watching porn; but in his defense, one could read only so much on the subject without scumming to the seduction of the material and rushing to the finish line. Some of the movies were too much for him, all that leather and chain reminded him Father Eugene and that thought alone was enough to kill his hard on rather quickly. But some...Sonny might have jacked off daily to some of the movies; barely containing his excitement whenever he remembered a scene during the day, sometimes barely making it to home to get it out of his system. And now… Now, Rafael was offering the real deal. God! Sonny almost couldn't conceal how fucking much he wanted Rafael taking control once again.

“Are you sure you're okay to let go.” Rafael asked again, hushed and low while gently taking Sonny's shirt off of him. “Follow everything I say?” His large hands pushed Sonny's pants down. “Obey me?”

“Yes, yes… Anything.” He said, closing his eyes and soaking into the sensation of Rafael's hands on his skin. It wasn't only the control thing; Sonny would do anything to get a taste of him once more. “If you ask me to wear a horse head and skip on single foot while reciting Declaration of Independence, I'll do it.”

Rafael stopped and took a step back.

“Horse head?” He asked, eyebrows lifted high and with a crooked smile that barely contained his amusement.

Sonny grimaced, “It sounded different in my mind, okay?” It really wasn't fair to hold him responsible for the things pouring out of his mouth while Rafael's hands were on his butt.

“Do you really think reciting old laws would arouse me?” Rafael continued, enjoying himself a tad too much.

Sonny groaned, letting his head fall on Rafael's shoulder. “Can we please forget that?”

“Only for now.” answered Rafael and stepped closer, gently pushing Sonny to the bed.

Sonny fell back down on the white sheets and watched Rafael stripping down, slowly. It wasn't what one would call a show; Rafael was merely taking care of his clothes as his habit, placing each and every item with care after carefully taking them off. However, that fact didn't stop what Sonny was enjoying to be the best striptease he had ever witnessed. It had been too long since he had seen Rafael naked because Rafael had always kept his body under several layers of clothing as much as New York heat allowed, and then some. Sonny knew it was due to the psychological trauma, but sometimes he had been haunted by visions of horrible scars covering Rafael's beautiful skin, forcing him to hide himself from everyone. Far from the truth. There was a single, long scar on his abdomen, yes; but it was really thin and was mostly hidden by the hair where it got coarse closer to his-- Fuck! Oh, sweet Jesus! Sonny missed watching that fucking beautiful, beautiful dick.

“I'm right here, Detective.” Rafael pointed his face with a sly smile.

Sonny realized he had been staring. He had no way of covering it up either when he was very obviously ogling Rafael's boner.

“As opposed to being here, Counselor.” He responded, gesturing his own body instead and was rewarded with a nod, accompanied with a hungry look.

Rafael climbed on the bed with lube on hand. However, contrary to Sonny's expectation, he started applying it on his own ass. Sonny wasn't against topping, even though his usual preference was heavily on the bottom side. During their very short fling, Rafael hadn't show any inclination that he would bottom, so watching him fingering himself was quite a surprise.

“Are you gonna--” Sonny couldn't finish the question upon facing “ _are you really gonna ask stupid questions?”_ look.

“Is that a limit for you?” Rafael asked, and despite having two fingers inside him, he could have been watching C-SPAN for the way he sounded all serious and calm. On the other hand, thinking about Rafael, his fingers and his ass, all together in a single sentence was almost too much for Sonny.

“No.” He replied after swallowing couple of times to avoid salivating all over himself. “I just thought it was for you.” Rafael didn't comment and Sonny decided that this discussion could wait for another time. “I could do that, you know.” He asked instead, gesturing at the exhilarating action going on at Raf’s back side.

“Hold on to the bars.” Rafael responded, pointing the headboard; clearly not wanting Sonny's hands anywhere near his ass. “Don't let them go.”

Sonny did as ordered, the wooden bars rigid and smooth in his palms. Then, he watched, magnetized, the way Rafael throwing a leg over him, and sitting slowly on his dick.

“Fuck!” He couldn't help swearing because the scene was stunning, yes, but the sensation was staggering. His hips jumped up, searching for more contact sooner and faster.

“Stop!” was the curt order from Raf. “You're not to move. Do you understand me?” His voice was steel. “Keep your hips down and **let** this happen **to** you. Okay?”

Shit! What?

“Are you gonna be a good boy and let me fuck myself on your dick, Sonny?” Rafael asked, this time a little bit warmer. “Are you gonna take it like a really good boy? Without thrashing, without pumping.” His hands moved over Sonny's pecs down to his abs, barely grazing but still electrifying. “Just laying down patiently and let it happen.” Those big hands stopped on Sonny's hips, pressing down to cement the message. “Are you?”

“I… Yes.”

Sonny suspected that there wasn't anything that he would say ‘ _No’_. Not to Rafael, not at this moment. Maybe not ever.

Rafael smiled appreciatively and its effect on Sonny was equal to compete bliss. He, then, restarted his slow up-and-down swaying. His testicles rested gently on Sonny's pubic bone every time he sat down on him. Like little velvety pouches filled with cotton candy, light and soft and exhilarating and mouth watering. Rafael's dick was slowly releasing precum, a small trail dripping on Sonny's abs, wetting a slowly enlarging spot of hair, maddeningly tickling him with Rafael's every move. Sonny wished to have the ability to contort his body like those freaky circus people, whatever they were called. He wanted to be able to taste that dick which was bobbing up and down in front of him; big, red, juicy… begging to be swallowed.

Rafael started to move faster and faster. Without looking at Sonny. Without speaking. He was using Sonny like a life size dildo, fucking himself on Sonny hard, maybe too hard. Rising all the way up with only the tip of the dick in him; then plummeting down, his butt almost crushing Sonny's hips with the impact. It was like a religious experience, the look on Rafael's face. Eyes closed but directed up, jaw clenched, eyebrows knitted close...  It wasn't pleasure, that was sure. But it wasn't pain either. It was something in between, a resolution, dedication… Sonny wanted to savor it, but the feeling was too much. He needed to come. He just couldn't hold it anymore.

“Please… please. Please….”

His begging caused the opposite effect; Rafael stopped. “Do you need me to stop?” He asked, all gentle.

“No! Please, please, Rafael. I need to come.”

Rafael's smile was a little cruel maybe but it was also a thing of beauty. Only one side of his mouth rose up as if he tried to stop it, but couldn't; indulging and lecturing at the same time.

“Don't worry.” He said, then, started to move, but at much slower pace. “I'm not gonna leave you high and dry. Patience.”

Sonny wanted to scream that he had been patient. For months he had been watching Rafael from afar, without touching him. And now, Rafael was sitting in top of him with all his naked glory and his magnificent dick... Sonny squeezed the bars even tighter. Wouldn't it be nice to break the bed with his hands? That would show Rafael-- He gurgled, completely forgetting his train of thought when a very slick finger started playing with his asshole.

“Don't move!” Rafael ordered, breathing hard, but with a commanding voice.

He was asking the impossible from Sonny, but the order made its way to his brainstem, stopping his eager hips. Rafael's finger was not pushing in, just playing, massaging, finding and igniting each and every nerve residing there.

“Please… Oh, Jesus! Rafael, please fuck me. I need you to fuck me.” His reservations, walls, shame… Everything was coming down, leaving him literally and figuratively naked under Rafael. “I need you fucking inside me.”

“Don't move.” Rafael reminded him again when Sonny's hips started shaking, his desire overwhelming his eagerness to obey.

“I can't… Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”

“Breathe.” ordered Rafael without stopping, neither his hips nor finger. “Breathe deep and long. You can do it.”

Sonny tried his damndest to obey, inhaled as much as he can muster, exhaled as slowly as he can endure. But the desire was too strong, instinctual and powerful.

“Come on, Barba. Fuck me with your big cock.” He tried goading him instead. “Push it in me, deep-- Fuck! Please…  I'll make it good.” And he would, he would be the best lay Rafael had lain with. “You can fuck me fast, hard... as much as you want. I can take it. I want it. I need it-- Fucking! Jesus! Fuck!” Sonny forgot most of his vocabulary because that cruel finger was slowly eroding his brain. “Don't you wanna give it to me? Make me come on your fat cock? Feel how ready I am for you?”

He continued begging, goading and swearing; but if Barba was affected, even a little, he didn't show.

Sonny’s mouth was dry by the time a single finger entered him, slowly and softly. He had let go of talking by then and his body was shaking with the enormous effort of trying to stay still. He could only whimper when a second digit accompanied the first one.

“You're so open.” Rafael said, no longer moving up and down but only holding Sonny's dick inside him while gently gyrating his hips. “No resistance whatsoever.”

It didn't surprise Sonny; he felted like even his bones had melted at the moment.

“You've been a really good boy, Sonny. Perfect.” Rafael praised him, then got up. “Don't touch.” He ordered and Sonny belatedly realized his hands had left the bars and moving towards his burning dick. The desire to come was overwhelming but Sonny was also exhausted. He shut his eyes close, couldn't even wonder where the hell Rafael had left to.

“Drink.” ordered Rafael moments later, soft but firm.

“I don't want it to be over.” Sonny said urgently, after gulping the water down.

“It doesn't have to be over for me to take care of you, Sonny.” replied Rafael with a smile, taking the glass back and placing it on a delicate, wooden coaster on the nightstand. “With periodic care, you’ll last longer.” He added mischievously.

“How do you--? How the fuck you can even walk?” Sonny wasn't really sure he could move if the room was on fire.

“But I have been just sitting for the last half hour? Why would I be tired?” He answered grinning. Bastard!

His hands moved over Sonny's body, starting from shoulders down to his chest, massaging gently, coaxing his over sensitive skin to relax. “Now, do you still want me to fuck you?” He asked, pressing down slightly harder. “Do you want my big, fat cock in you, Sonny?” He parroted Sonny's words back to him, but making them sound dirtier and more erotic somehow. “Use it to plow your ass? Fuck you until you don't know your own name?” He pinched Sonny's nipples, one after another, in an idle manner; like he had all the time in the world. “Until you come on my cock? Shooting without touching your own?” His hands were no longer gentle, pushing and prodding, fingernails biting into Sonny's skin, pulling and twisting…

“Yes, yes, yes, yes… please.” Sonny had to clutch on the sheets to stop his own hands. But he didn't have to wait too long this time because suddenly, Rafael was on top of him; his dick pushing in ever so slowly.

“ _¡Mierda!_ I missed this.” groaned Rafael.

Hearing him swore in Spanish made Sonny's dick twitch. Sonny missed _this_ too, but he couldn't express it with words in his current state. He let himself fall into the moment, into pleasure. Rafael kept going, dick thrusting in and out in a perfect rhythm while his hands grasping Sonny's waist pulling and pushing him in tandem with his hips.

“Fucking Christ!” Rafael swore. Little droplets of sweat kept dribbling down from the roots of his hair, contouring his face and dropping from his chin onto Sonny's chest. Sonny wanted to trace that wet line with his tongue, to savor its taste. _“Tu puto culo_!”

His hand found Sonny's over sensitive dick and in two rubs, he carried Sonny to the finish line without breaking the eye contact. Green eyes ablaze with passion, Rafael watched Sonny to come apart. He didn't let go, neither fucking nor jacking off, and Sonny felt like he kept coming and coming with Rafael's every thrust.

“Too much!” He stopped Rafael when the sensitivity overcame the pleasure.

Rafael readily let go and got down on his forearms, hands holding Sonny's head. He came quietly, with his head buried in Sonny's neck, nose grazing his collarbone.

For a while they didn't move a muscle; lying entwined with each other, breathing deep and loud. Then, Rafael lifted himself a little higher, nuzzling Sonny's neck up to his face until he reached to his lips. Little pecks turned into something big, wet and delicious; leaving Sonny equally wanting for more of Rafael's mouth and more oxygen.

“I love you.” said Rafael afterwards, eyes locked with Sonny's. Gently and quietly, as if it was something he often uttered to Sonny and not for the first time.

Sonny hadn't been expecting that at all. Also, his brain was not working on all cylinders at the moment after the marathon sex he had enjoyed. So, he just looked at Rafael, probably with big, wide, unbelieving eyes.

He collected himself right away though, “I love--”

“Shhhh!” Rafael stopped him with a finger over his lips. “Tell me when **you** are ready, not because you feel obligated to reciprocate.”

He, then, slid to the side; the move removing his dick from Sonny's ass. Sonny couldn't help the way his hips following Rafael as if trying to get him back in. He had to shake himself to focus on the conversation instead.

“If you don't already know how I feel, I must have done everything wrong.” He said, a dread slowly rising inside him.

He had never said it out loud. He just couldn't know when it would be considered normal since Sonny had loved Rafael before they had even kissed. At first, he hadn't wanted to look like a stupid boy with a crush. He was afraid that Rafael would laugh at him, correcting Sonny about the nature of their relationship. Then came that cursed night and Rafael flew farther and farther away, making it impossible to declare something so intimate for the first time. Sonny hadn't want to crowd the guy with his emotions when Rafael had obviously been hurting, suffering.

“I love you, Rafael.” He said, finally feeling the confidence that had been missing in his life for months. “And I'm gonna do everything I can to make you believe me.”

“Will that include breakfast in bed?” asked Rafael, with a sly grin.

“As long as I have you in my bed.”

“You **are** cheesy!”

“Yeah, but you love me.”


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to lilahenatlantis for their help with Spanish and making sure that my little people weren't speaking like little robots instead.
> 
> Warning: unbetaed i.e. mistakes galore.

“Where did you forget your hat, Val?.... No, we're not going back to home to get it, honey…. Because we'll be late to the party…. How about I take my hat out too, huh? Now, we're both going in without hats… You want mine?…. Okay, okay, here you are… What is it, Em?... Raf! Give Emma your hat.”

“And you have training in hostage negotiation.” Rafael complained under his breath before surrendering his hat to end the latest sibling war. Sonny only smiled while exchanging Rafael's Italian fabric hat with a Disney princess one; they both knew Sonny was the only one who could end this negotiation without a bloodbath.

“ _ Papi _ …” whined Val as soon as she was out of the car, arms up and puppy eyes full-force even half-hidden under Sonny's woolen cap.

“It's only five steps to the building,  _ cariño. _ I'll carry you on the way back, okay?”

Rafael could've never imagined how long a five steps could stretch before having Valentina in his life.

  
  


“You guys finally made it.” Olivia's smile was wide and welcoming. “I was afraid we were gonna cut the cake without you.”

Rafael's answer was drowned under the shireeks of Val and Emma, both wanted to hug Noah at the same time while telling him all about their hats. 

“Wow!” Olivia laughed with a grimace, covering her ear. “That's something I'm never gonna miss about having a daughter.”

“You should hear them at the pool.” said Rafael, getting rid of his winter layers. “I swear they can go beyond what's safe for human ears.”

Rafael left it to Sonny to run after the girls to take of their jackets. He had done his fair share of wrestling at home, trying to put the said jackets on.

“Barba!” Amanda hugged him with her southern warmth, “So nice to see you. Would you like wine?” 

“At the moment, I'd take even a cider. Whatever you have.” He wasn't looking forward to the littlests’ choir shouting the happy birthday song, eager for the sugar rush which would most definitely fuel their shouting even more.

“Uncle Rafael!” Jesse ran like a storm and jumped toward the general vicinity of Rafael; not caring if she fell on her target or something lethal.

“I see that you’re still a daredevil, little lady.” He caught her before she broke her skull on the corner of the coffee table. “Resemblance to your mother is astounding.”

“You talk funny.” She giggled, always enamoured with Rafael using  _ grown-up _ words with her. “I can speak Spanish now.” She declared and decided to show off her most recent achievement by shouting a mangled version of  _ “Mi nombre es Jesse.” _

Olivia's announcement of the cake pulled her away though, before she could finish counting to ten. She ran toward the promise of a cake without so much as a goodbye.

“God knows why, but she loves you.” said Amanda, handing him a generously filled glass of red.

“You should be happy, apparently she has taste.” answered Rafael, “You'll thank me when she starts dating.”

She cracked a booming laugh as he had expected and they too walked in the dining room. After every kid yelled from the top of their lungs and Noah very successfully blew all of the candles, Rafael run back to the living room. He had been eyeing that new sofa since he entered the apartment.

“No sweet tooth, Counselor?” asked Fin, already slouched on the said sofa.

“Let's not pretend the reason behind us sitting here is anything but our young being utterly exhausting.” Rafael replied, occupying the other end.

“I have him only for a half a day…” Fin started, but finished the sentiment by just shaking his head. 

That's why grandkids were considered more adorable Rafael mused; one could send them back to the actual parents at the end of the day.

“When Olivia said you adopted, I couldn't believe at first.” Fin changed the subject. “Then I learned it's two girls?” He whistled to show his surprise and laughed. “Man, you guys are brave.”

It was something Rafael did frequently consider too. After everything they had seen in their line of work, he sometimes genuinely listed pros and cons of hiring some kind of protection service for the girls. It was only going to get harder when they grow up and start keeping secrets and the internet-- 

Rafael shuddered. He didn't want to think about it; having two daughters might be the biggest risk factor for his heart. He had known that from the start. But they were sisters, whose parents had died on the way to US, all alone in a strange country that was considering to send them back to the hell they had escaped. Separating them would be inhuman, and that was exactly what the social worker had said would have happened if they couldn't be placed in a family soon. 

A shrill cry caused Fin to jump up. “That's my cue.”

Rafael raised his glass for a farewell, which turned to a greeting for Olivia who's beelining to the relative serenity of the living room and it's huge, soft leather sofa. She plumped down on the fluffy cushions with a sigh. She was smiling wide and merry though, and it was contagious.

“I'm glad you could make it.” She said, with a hand covering Rafael's, squeezing a little. “It's getting impossible to see you guys since Carisi did the carrier jump.”

“I don't think we have any kind of social life left other than attending birthday parties and playdates.” answered Barba; he had been in more birthday parties since the school year started than in his whole life before the girls. At least it felt like that.

“I'd believed that more easily if I didn't see the tuxedo pictures on the newspapers.” She said, one accusing eyebrow playfully lifted.

“That's work and you know it.” answered Rafael after draining his glass.

“Have you met Roy?” She asked, pointing with her glass to the debonair gentleman next room. “Carisi's replacement?” She added with a whisper.

Rafael couldn't answer because Val entered, zeroing on Rafael with fresh tears on her hazel eyes.

“ _ Papi… _ ” She was crying as if her world had ended. “ _ Jeff y Mike no me dejan jugar con su autito.”  _ Her words came out barely understandable through all that sobbing. 

“ _ Ven aquí, mi vida.”   _ Rafael picked her up and hugged her, while all he wanted to ask was what was so damn important about a toy car that had made her so upset.

She buried her head into Rafael's chest and that's when Rafael saw Emma controlling a miniature Mars Ranger in the corridor, with two boys cheering on her. So, that's what's so important about the car. Val hated it when her sister was deemed old or cool enough for something when Val wasn't. 

Rafael tried to explain that her  _ Papi _ didn't have jurisdiction over the Mars Rover which obviously belonged to the new guy Roy’s twins. However, he somehow ended up promising one to her for Christmas. She left jumping, excited to share this new piece of information with her sister, her eyes still wet with tears. 

Rafael tried to clean the shiny traces left on his burgundy shirt and caught Olivia smiling at him, a knowing smirk.

“It's the tenth gift Santa will have to deliver this year.”  Rafael confessed. “Sonny will have a talk about what Santa thinks about greed and how they have to limit their list to three.”

“You're the soft parent, huh?” Olivia asked, “Who'd've thought?”

“Not me that's for sure.” 

“You are really good at it, Raf.” She emphasized the word  _ really  _ in a way that Rafael couldn't ignore the compliment.

“I feel like a hypocrite sometimes.” He confessed, whispering because one could never overestimate the power of tiny ears. “You know it was all for Sonny.” 

Sonny had never mentioned how much he wanted to have a family, just like Rafael had never mentioned how much he didn't. They both just knew. Rafael could see the yearning in Sonny's eyes every time he was around a kid. One day, watching Sonny play-wrestling with Noah, squealing in glee and breathless with laughter, Rafael had realized how insignificant his own reservations become facing the power of such joy and happiness. 

“When I put the adoption brochures on our kitchen bar, I thought even if I wasn't really parent material, Sonny would be an exceptional one.” He had thought compared to what the kids, unfortunately, go through in the system, Rafael wouldn't be that bad of an alternative. 

“Sonny has a gift.” Olivia agreed, trying to catch a glimpse of Sonny making an impromptu magic show to the kids on the corner. Then, she turned to Rafael, “You're not bad either, Raf.”

“The girls had been with us about two months and one morning Val came to me crying. Her finger got squeezed in the drawer or the door. Sonny was there too, I don't know why she chose me.” He could still see her tiny, red finger. Swollen a little with a deep, purple dent in the middle that had made Rafael’s heart ache. She had pushed it in front of his face, right above his nose. She'd probably have demanded it to be kissed too if it wasn't for her breathless sobs. “Her chest was contracting, she was crying so hard. I picked her up automatically.” His hand was big enough to cover her whole back; she was so tiny in his arms. When he said a few words that he remembered his grandma used to say to console him, she hugged him; her scrawny arms barely covering his neck. “That moment I realized, I loved her. I loved them both.” He wanted to hold, cherish and protect. Forever. He loved them, like a parent supposed to. And it was the best feeling and the most frightening at the same time.

“The first time you realize that, it's…intense.” Olivia said, “Then it keeps coming.” She added, “Like bursts of love erupting from your heart.” Her hands wagged fervently for a little then fell down on her lap, abandoning their attempt to explain the intensity of the emotion. “You know how it is.”

“I do.” He smiled. He really did.

It wasn't long before Sonny announced the balloon animal tutorial and pulled all the kids back to the dining room.

“This should be fun.” Olivia got up, “Come on.” She called him. “We’ll never tell anyone you actually had fun here. Your secret will be safe.”

“That won't be a secret,” He replied, getting up. “only defamation.” But if Olivia's knowing smile was any indication, he wasn't really convincing.

  
  
  
  
  


When Rafael closed the bathroom door, he could still hear his daughters’ chatter; full of energy and excitement despite the later than usual bedtime. It had been a hassle to put them in bed after the cakes and sodas and all that stimulation of a birthday party. Their night unfortunately had ended with yet another crisis between Val and Emma. These fights were getting more frequent, and it worried Rafael, like it was his fault, like he was failing at this parenting thing horribly.

The automatic light went off and Rafael waved his hand to light it back up. 

There it was. 

The flittering image right at the corner of his eye: Alex. Looking at him; eyes full of hatred, righteous anger and degrading lust. It had been quite a long time Rafael had seen any visions. Enough that he thought it was over, finally. 

The sudden panic had already got his heart pumping like he was running for his life. He exhaled slowly, trying to control his shaking breath and kept repeating that there was no one else in the bathroom. The panic faded away slowly with each breath he inhaled. He was good. He was safe. He was whole.

  
  
  
  


Sonny was going through their Netflix list and opened his arm without even looking at Rafael who sat in the offered space, snuggling to his husband.

“I think Val’s getting aware of the perception of her birthmark.” Rafael said. Their little girl had a palm size red patch covering her right cheek, ear and neck. She hadn't mind it until recently. However, the way she had began to go crazy whenever someone commented how pretty her sister was, it seemed that wasn't the case anymore. It really didn't help how often Emma received compliments. Her small, celestial nose or her big, shiny drops of liquid black eyes made good-willed old ladies fawn over her at playgrounds, bakeries, even in supermarkets. 

“The doctor said it'd go away.” Sonny replied after some time, his eyes focused on an action packed trailer.

“I'm gonna take her for a second opinion.” continued Rafael, straightening Sonny's shirt that was bunched up over his back, dragged along the sofa cushions. “I don't want her growing up resentful.”

Sonny hugged him tight with one arm. “Okay.” He said, turning down the volume. “I assume we'll have a nose job afterwards, maybe some liposuction...”

Rafael groaned, running his hands over his face. 

“She's only five, Raf.” Sonny said softly. “We'll have to teach her she's beautiful the way she is. Otherwise that's gonna be a never ending fight.”

“When did you become so wise?” asked Rafael.

“Nah!” Sonny laughed, shaking his head. “I just have first-hand experience on sister love and rivalry.”

“So this isn't some sign to show us how profoundly we're failing as parents?” Rafael asked, trying hard but failing to keep his voice cheerful.

“You know, if my momma was here, she'd have told you the fact that you're afraid to fail is the biggest sign that you're a great parent.”

“Isn't that a little oxymo--” Rafael started only to be silenced by his husband finger on his lips.

“She'd also say, not to criticize her parenting wisdom unless the number of your kids exceeds hers.” Sonny said, eyebrows lifted in a naughty amusement.

“She sounds real bossy.”

“She is.” nodded Sonny, “But enough of that. I was promised Netflix and chill.”

Rafael leaned back and pulled Sonny to his chest. “Let's chill,  _ cielo.”  _

Then, he let Sonny's commentary on the movie choices wash over him like soothing waves; lulling him into a calm, domestic-- 

“Sonny, are those steamed broccoli pieces under our TV?”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, it's over.
> 
> I'm really thankful for all my readers that give me kudos, kept commenting, just lurking... You made this journey possible, really.
> 
> Also I'm really thankful all the different betas that helped different parts of the series. And to the random people who didn't ignore me when I was cheecky enough to beg some help.
> 
> I'm sorry the last few chapters were a bit rushed and not in the quality I was aiming for. Especially the last one. It's my first (and probably the last) fluff piece; kicked my butt writing it. 
> 
> Thank you again and please make me even happier by leaving yet another comment. I love reading them. again and again... (Like a crazy old lady that I actually am.)
> 
> I actually suck at writing for prompts, they keep going totally random places. But if you feel lucky, my Tumblr id is melitta4ever too, send me an ask. I'll try my best to oblige.


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